


you hold my head underwater

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Post-Canon, Sex Pollen, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27024055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: One second it feels like it’s been hoursat bestand the next Poe feels like this is a brand new feeling. A new and horrifying way of being out of control.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	you hold my head underwater

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, suspend disbelief. The usual.

The new Galactic government adopted a policy of ‘moving forward’ (literally their post-war slogan, plastered all over the streets of Chandrila and Coruscant) and is mostly happy to ignore Hux’s continued existence as long as the organization formerly known as the Resistance keeps him in line. It, more or less, makes him one of them. Nominally, at least. Poe’s not stupid enough to believe the guy’s changed; he’s just smart enough to take a good deal when he sees it.

Poe can admit that it’s good to have him around as an asset, not just because he has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of anyone who was ever vaguely associated with the First Order, but because he has the kind of fucked up mindset that allows him to figure out what those same people might do next. That is how they find themselves in Cortania.

Poe is unwilling to send anyone else with Hux when he doesn’t fully trust him and no one is eager to volunteer, anyway.

When they get off the transport, Poe gets this almost unbearable sensation of cold piercing through his body, freezing his veins. He has to clench his teeth to keep himself from shivering. He looks toward Hux, but he seems fine. The guy never misses an opportunity to complain about nature, the weather and the concept of being outside, but now he just frowns curiously at Poe from where he’s standing a few paces away. Poe’s probably just coming down with something. Great.

The feeling of intolerable cold goes away once they start talking to the locals, but the insistent prickle on his skin that replaces it isn’t any better. He’s distracted, not paying attention to where he’s standing and keeps accidentally bumping into people’s personal spaces. Poe checks his datapad and, seeing they only have a couple of places left on their list, decides to go back to their ship. It’s extremely irresponsible, but he feels like he’s doing more harm than good out here and he can barely hold one thought inside his head long enough to evaluate how much of a bad idea it is.

“Can you take care of the rest? I have to go back to the ship,” he asks Hux.

Hux, normally touch-adverse, grabs his elbow to stop him and just as quickly releases him. “You’re not leaving.” _Leaving me here_ is what he means.

“No, of course not. I’ll wait for you to finish here.”

Hux frowns at him and then looks pointedly at Poe’s hand, which has been kneading his shoulder this entire time. He didn’t notice he was doing that. “You got this,” he says, his hand inexplicably reaching out to clasp him in the back. He avoids touching Hux for a reason, but he doesn’t remember it now.

“They didn’t have any relevant information or, quite possibly, they didn’t want to share it with me on account of my not being _General Poe Dameron_ ,” Hux says derisively, his voice close but not close enough. “You can go check for yourself if you doubt me. Dameron?”

He sounds the way he usually does; prickly, suspicious, affronted by one thing or another. Poe focuses on his disembodied voice for a moment, but can’t process any of the words he’s saying.

Hux walks into the room, immediately filling it with warmth. “Dameron, did you hear– oh, _kriff_ ,” he says and walks out. Right, it’s not like Poe forgot he had his dick out, it just didn’t seem noteworthy. There’s something genuinely wrong with him.

“I know you are all undisciplined, self-indulgent and immature, but this truly crosses the line. It is unthinkable that you, in your role of commanding officer, would leave me to do all the work, so you could come here and play with yourself. What is wrong with you?” Hux says from outside the door.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly.

Hux stands up, pacing once again. “What if–”

Poe takes a moment to be angry at him for being able to be detached, for treating this like a simple problem they can just brainstorm their way out of. It’s probably what they need right now, though, and Poe is too _compromised_ to do any of the thinking, so he’s stuck with Hux and his awful suggestions. So far they have ranged from the appalling to the truly horrifying. It’s not much of a range.

“Hux,” Poe says, resting his face in his palms. “Hux, I need you to do it.”

Hux stops and looks downright horrified at the prospect. “Absolutely not.”

Poe grits his teeth and breathes. “We need to get off this planet. Unless you can get us out of here–”

“I’m sure any of the locals would be happy to assist you. If you just–”

“Hux, I already told you I’m not fucking someone while you hold them at blasterpoint. What is wrong with you?” Poe snaps. It’s so fucked up on so many levels that the idea of having Hux point a blaster in his general direction is the least of it; makes it seem almost reassuring. It’s so indicative of Hux’s fucked up worldview, that he’d just casually suggest something like that.

“The blaster wouldn’t be there for coercive purposes, but for–” He explains this as if he were talking to a particularly slow child.

“I’ve heard this already, Hux.”

“Then maybe you should try again to...” Hux says, awkwardly trailing off.

“I already tried. Several times.” And while Hux was standing right outside the door, saying things like _did it work this time?_ and _maybe you’re not doing it right_ as if Poe didn’t know how to touch his own dick. _You wanna come show me how it’s done?_ Poe bit back, using whatever small amount of self-restraint he still possessed.

“If there was any other way– I’m not any happier about this than you are,” Poe says. He would be almost offended by how utterly disgusted Hux is by this if he didn’t feel like he was slowly losing his mind. He has no idea how much time it’s been. One second it feels like it’s been hours _at best_ , and the next he feels like this is a brand new feeling. A new and horrifying way of being out of control.

“I know that,” Hux says, sounding affronted. He won’t even meet Poe’s gaze.

It’s fine, Poe tells himself. He needs to think like Hux, however disturbing the idea might be. He needs to frame it in a way that will make it seem acceptable to Hux. “Look, don’t think of it as sex. Think of it as part of your job.” No, that sounds bad and from the expression on Hux’s face, he can tell it was not the way to go. _He’d probably do it out of duty if he were still with the Order,_ Poe thinks bitterly.

All he has to do is figure out what works for Hux, what he’s into. This is something Poe is actually good at. “Whatever you’re picturing, it doesn’t have to be like that. It can be something you want.”

Hux immediately flushes all over and quickly looks away, turns his back to Poe. Okay, that’s progress. He just needs to sweeten the deal. _It’s fine, it’s fine,_ he repeats in his head, but it’s not. He’s so out of his mind that he’s willing to give Hux carte blanche to do anything he wants.

“I’m game for whatever you want, man.” It’s not like he has a choice and he reasons, he’s so fucking desperate for it that he’ll probably end up enjoying it. It doesn’t matter anyway as long as it gets the job done.

Hux turns back around but keeps his distance, looking at Poe warily.

“Hey, you want to fuck me?” Poe asks. The idea is so unbelievably appealing to Poe that he has to clench his hands and take a deep breath, for fear that he might do something like crawl over to where Hux is standing and beg him to do it.

Hux swallows and breathes harshly, the fingers in his right hand flexing repeatedly.

“C’mere. I’ll make it worth your while,” he jokes weakly.

He pulls Hux to stand between his legs when he’s within arm’s reach, not wanting to wait another second. It feels so good to be touching another person. It sends shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body.

He pants harshly against Hux when he opens his pants, straight up drooling on him.

He takes him out of his underwear and presses his tongue from base to tip and back again, breathing hotly against him before swallowing him down. Hux exhales loudly, but when Poe looks up he finds him staring at the wall, resolutely not looking down. He wonders what or who Hux might be thinking about, might be picturing in Poe’s place. The thought makes him feel uneasy.

Poe pulls on his hips a little, encouraging him to take over. Grabs his clenched hand and holds it until he feels Hux slowly relax his grip and then places it on his head. Hux holds, but doesn’t pull, moves his hips not too fast and not too far. Poe figures he doesn’t want to come from this, which works for Poe who is actively looking to avoid that. He needs to get Hux’s dick inside him.

“You wanna fuck me now?” Poe asks, nodding his head and willing Hux to nod along and not make Poe jump through hoops to get at his dick.

Hux swallows, looking down before looking quickly away. “I don’t–”

Fuck, why is he like this? Why is Poe stuck with _him_? “Okay, okay,” Poe says, rubbing Hux’s thigh. He’s not trying to be seductive, it just genuinely feels good to touch him. “What do you want?” He hopes the _I’ll do anything_ is implied because he doesn’t want to have to say it.

Hux clenches his jaw and says nothing. Poe’s tempted to start guessing. What is a tightly wound, repressed, uptight guy like Hux into? Taking into account his background in the First Order and the matter-of-fact way he suggested holding someone you’re fucking at blasterpoint ‘for safety reasons’? Poe knows he’s not gonna like the answer. He never wanted to know this much about Hux.

Poe grows more frustrated each second that goes by, until he snaps, “just fucking tell me, so we can get it over with.”

It has, at least, the desired effect of making Hux react. He nods rapidly, his breath labored. “Let’s do what you said.”

“Great. How do you want me?”

Hux just stands there, unmoving, staring at Poe while he undresses. He hasn’t taken off a single item of clothing but his pants are still open, so Poe figures he’s going to just take his dick out when he has to. Poe doesn’t care either way, as long as Hux is not having second thoughts.

Poe opens the bottle of lube and Hux frowns a little. “What?”

“Nothing. Do you– need me to do that?” he asks, pointing at the lube.

Poe doesn’t _need_ him to, but having Hux’s hands on him and vice versa makes him feel better, less agitated, more centered. “You could–?” He almost adds _if you want to_ , but Hux doesn’t want any part of this. Poe keeps forgetting.

“I don’t–” but Hux cuts himself off, sounding frustrated.

“You don’t what?” Poe prompts, dreading whatever’s gonna come out of Hux’s mouth next. He doesn’t know why he keeps underestimating the guy.

“I don’t know how to,” he says, angry.

Angry at whom? Poe wonders. At Poe for taking away the opportunity to fuck him dry the way he is apparently used to? “That’s fine. I’ll do it.”

Hux grabs the bottle from his hands and says, “no, just tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

Of all the things he expects, he doesn’t expect Hux to be hesitant. Careful, almost.

“Stop moving,” he snaps when Poe pushes back, fucking himself on his fingers. He can feel himself close to coming, but Hux’s frustrating, fleeting touches are keeping his orgasm at bay.

“Let’s move things along, Hux.” Poe almost regrets not letting Hux fuck him without prep.

He mostly feels good, though. He feels on edge and desperate, yes, but there’s also something deeply comforting about the hand that Hux has placed on his hip, the slow movements of his fingers, the way his warm breath ghosts over Poe’s skin.

“Is this doing anything for you?” Hux says accusingly.

Poe’s not in the habit of lying when it comes to sex. “Not really, but it’s fine, you can fuck me now.” He has been saying this for at least five minutes.

Hux takes his fingers out and says, from behind gritted teeth, “or you could just tell me how to do it.”

Hux is a fast learner and, perhaps unsurprisingly, really good at following directions.

Poe is panting against the bed when Hux asks, “does this mean we don’t have to – anymore?”

By ‘this’ what he means is ‘now that I’ve fingerfucked you to orgasm’ but he’s too polite to say it. Poe feels more composed now, but he can tell this feeling is temporary. There’s still something buzzing underneath his skin, waiting to take over.

“Sorry, I don’t think so.”

“How many times do you think you will have to–?”

Poe has thought about that. He figures a couple more times _at least_ , which means he needs to prolong Hux’s own orgasm to keep him interested. “I don’t know. I don’t know any more than you do, buddy.”

Hux sighs. “Right. Were we done with – this part of the proceedings?”

Poe almost laughs. “Yeah, you wanna fuck me now? Go ahead.”

Hux starts out slowly, almost tentative, before pulling Poe back by his hips and sliding all the way in, faster than Poe expected. He hasn’t done this in longer than he cares to admit and he’s not prepared for the way Hux starts moving right away, not waiting for Poe to get used to it.

It feels amazing. Although he’s not sure if it feels that way because he’s out-of-his-mind desperate or because it actually is mind-blowing. Hux is panting almost soundlessly behind him and it reminds Poe that he needs to slow him down. “Hey, hey.”

Hux drapes himself over his back and pants against his neck. “What,” he says, speeding up his pace.

Poe pushes back and moans, grabs Hux’s hand and wraps it around his cock. “Come on.”

It takes no more than a couple of strokes before he’s coming again. He can barely enjoy it, though, because Hux immediately goes back to fucking him, clearly eager to come.

“Stop. Stop moving.”

Hux, to his credit, does so immediately, squeezing Poe’s hips in a painfully tight grip.

After a moment, Poe adds, “Come on. Pull out.”

“What,” says Hux, sounding betrayed, but obediently does it.

“I need you to get me off again. Then you can come,” Poe says, rolling over.

Hux is immediately on him. Jerking him off fast, his grip almost too tight. _It must be how he touches himself,_ Poe thinks. He closes his eyes, but all he sees is Hux; the almost uncomfortable way he’s placed all his focus on Poe’s body, his barely-there sounds, his too-tight grip on Poe’s hips. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling instead.

This time when he comes he feels something less like pleasure gnawing at him. He feels raw. He irrationally wishes for nothing more than time away from his own body.

“Dameron?” Hux asks, sounding weird. Poe doesn’t have it in him to try to examine weird _how._ He touches Poe’s hip and when Poe looks at him he finds him frowning.

“Yeah, c’mere.” Poe reaches for him, for his dick and slides it inside easily. He moans, feeling the same artificial hunger taking over his body again. The fact that there’s something distinctly foreign about it doesn’t actually dull the pleasure he’s feeling. “Come on. You can fuck me harder than that,” he tells Hux, whose movements have become unsure, stuttering.

It seems to be what he was waiting for, because Hux starts snapping his hips fast and hard enough that it pushes Poe closer to the wall with each thrust. He grabs Poe’s dick without prompting and strokes him, though his rhythm is a bit off.

It makes Poe like it even more, to be honest. Hux’s distinctly human, imperfect touch a clear contrast with this inhuman thing he’s feeling.

Hux takes a deep breath and stops moving his hips, redoubles his efforts to get Poe to come; twisting his wrist, changing the angle, rubbing the pad of his thumb insistently right under the head of Poe’s dick. “Are you close.”

There’s something weirdly hot about Hux’s self-control. It’s hot in a way that Poe can recognize as being particularly appealing to him, outside of this thing possessing him. A thought that’s entirely his and that he, unfortunately, won’t be able to forget once this is over.

A part of him wants to delay his orgasm, see how long he can keep Hux like that, unmoving; on the edge of his own orgasm and valiantly holding back because he needs to make Poe come first. It’s just a fantasy, though. He has no more control over his body now than he did, six? Sixteen? However many hours ago, when this thing started.

After Poe comes, Hux grips his thigh and pants, “I have to– I need–”

Poe has the absurd idea of telling him _you did a good job, buddy. You’ve earned it_ like he does after a successful mission and has to suppress the laughter that threatens to come out. Instead, he squeezes down on him and Hux thrusts three times before coming inside him.

“I can get you off again. If you need me to,” Hux says, sounding more out of it than Poe feels.

When it’s over it leaves Poe feeling shaky and hollow. He wishes, uselessly, that he could read Hux, could understand him, could reach him somehow if only so he would feel less alone and out-of-sorts.

Hux, who immediately abandoned the bed when they were done, as if desperate to put as much distance between them as possible. Poe can’t even blame him. Hux didn’t want to do this and did it against his will.

“Thanks,” Poe says, and because he wants to make it up to Hux somehow, he adds, “I owe you.”

He’s unwilling to repay him in a professional capacity, but he’s more than willing to roleplay ‘captured Resistance scum’ while sucking his dick or whatever it is that Hux is into.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Hux says, walking away.

When they get back to the base, Hux doesn’t leave the ship immediately as Poe assumed he would. Instead, he sits in the ramp with his knees against his chest for a long time. Poe joins him, sitting as far away from him as possible. “Are you okay?”

“I had never done that before,” Hux says, with a distant look, sounding almost stunned. “What we did.”

“Really?” Poe doesn’t know why it surprises him. Before today he had never considered Hux’s sex life. He just– assumed.

“Why would I lie about that?”

Poe figures that makes sense. His instinct is still to distrust everything out of Hux’s mouth, but maybe that’s a little unfair.

He wants to ask Hux for details, because he’s curious now. Which part? Had he never had any kind of sex at all or had he just never fucked someone? Poe’s not going to ask, because he knows it’s inappropriate and might be misconstrued as a come-on.

“Was it–?” but he gets stuck on how to finish that question. _Good for you? A memorable first time?_ He doesn’t want to sound like he’s looking for an ego boost. Is he? He could actually show Hux a much better time under normal circumstances. When he’s more coherent and coordinated. Not that Hux would want to. In the end, he settles for saying, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Hux asks, frowning.

“Because you should only have sex with people you want to have sex with.”

“You mean, with people who want to have sex with me.”

Poe frowns. Was that something that needed explaining? “Well, yes. Of course. That too.”

Hux swallows and looks in the opposite direction. After a moment, he says, his gaze still averted, “I’m sorry as well.”

“Don’t worry about it. It could’ve been much worse.”

“How?”

“You could’ve not been there. You could’ve decided not to help. I owe you.” He doesn’t look reassured by Poe’s words. If anything, he looks more miserable.

Poe sighs. He doesn’t know how to reassure Hux when he’s feeling pretty terrible himself. He doesn’t even have a problem with the sex, though he understands and respects that Hux does. Poe’s not familiar with sexual culture in the First Order. Maybe back there you were only allowed to have sex for procreative purposes or with your spouse or needed the Supreme Leader’s approval before each encounter, he thinks, with the almost uncontrollable urge to laugh bubbling to the surface again. Sure, people would’ve found a way around those rules, but not Hux. He wouldn’t be the type do that.

What bothers Poe is the complete and horrifying lack of autonomy. He would’ve done _anything_ and Hux knew it. He is thankful that Hux is apparently a decent enough guy not to have taken him up on that. Or maybe he’s just too inexperienced to know what to ask for. A part of him wonders if he was even limiting himself to sex when he wordlessly offered that. He’s a walking security risk and he’s expected to lead these people. At least the only one around to witness that was Hux, who has no respect for him or his leadership skills in any way.

“Dameron, don’t beat yourself up about how you forced me to do something I didn’t want to do. We both did what we had to. How we felt about it is irrelevant,” Hux says fiercely.

Hux is right, but he feels as if every word they say to each other only serves to drive them further apart. Poe should want that. He should want to put it behind them and forget it ever happened, find someone else to fuck. He can tell now that the sex was not even good; hurried, uncoordinated, awkward. It’s jarring to realize that, because at the time it felt like the best sex of his life.

He feels like he’s missing something, though. Something he can’t put his finger on, but that was left behind and he hopes that making things right with Hux means he can somehow get it back. It’s horrific to think that whatever part of himself he abandoned resides now with Hux.

He buries his face in his hands and startles when Hux touches him, just the tip of his fingers brushing his knee. Unable to keep quiet, despite knowing it’ll only make things worse, he says, “is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“There’s nothing to make up for,” Hux says, with his usual degree of intensity.

“Was sex in the First Order considered an incomparable expression of lifelong commitment?”

“What?” Hux asks, looking as confused as Poe feels.

“Maybe we could get married,” Poe tries to joke.

“ _What_.”

Poe rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Nothing. I don’t– sorry, I need to–”

“Stop talking.”

“Yeah.”

“To answer your question, no. People could have sex with whomever they wanted as long as they were both members of the Order.”

“There was no one to meet your exacting standards, huh?” Poe teases.

Hux stares at him for a long uncomfortable moment. “Something like that. Not even I would have met my exacting standards. I value loyalty,” he says, like a riddle he’s daring Poe to solve.

Poe opens his mouth to respond, but words have been letting him down so far, so he goes with his gut and leans forward until their noses brush together. He gives Hux a chance to pull away; counts down in his head, five, four, three–

Hux closes the distance between them, placing one hand on the back of his head and the other on his knee. He doesn’t go for something chaste either. It’s passionate in a way Poe doesn’t associate with him. When Hux rises on his knees and moves to straddle him, Poe puts a stop to it.

“Was that–?” Poe says, moving back.

“It was fine.” And when Poe winces, Hux adds, “I meant I liked it. We could do it again. That, and–”

“We could go on a date.”

Hux frowns at him. “I told you, sex in the Order wasn’t– not that it would matter. I’m not in the Order anymore.”

“I know, but maybe I want to.” He mostly doesn’t want to rush this, in case it _is_ something. He’ll have to sleep on it and make sure it’s not just the lingering aftereffects. “What’s the worst that could happen? Terrifying loss of control followed by unbearable awkwardness? Been there, done that.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

Is he? “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Okay, then,” Hux says, looking at him suspiciously. That’s his default mode, so Poe doesn’t take it personally. “That would be fine.”

Poe chuckles. “Man, I like you,” he says standing up. He pats Hux’s knee twice and when Hux leans into his touch almost imperceptibly, he forgets all over again why he doesn’t usually touch him.


End file.
